


Waiting For Yes

by keelywolfe



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 11:09:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10718205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: Years later, everyone has moved away. Except one.





	Waiting For Yes

**Author's Note:**

> Some days, you just need to break your own heart a little.

* * *

There were days Robbie believed he was dead in every way but the one that counted. 

Robbie couldn't remember the last time he'd been aboveground; days, weeks, perhaps. He only came out to retrieve packages. What was the point in coming out of his bunker when there was nothing and no one to see? 

Still, he looked through his periscope at least once a day, a habit, maybe, or some form of denial. There was little to see and yet, he looked, taking in the nothing that awaited him. 

Until the day there was something. 

It couldn't be.

Robbie blinked and looked again, squinting against the sunlight to see it better.

It couldn't be. It couldn't.

Carefully, Robbie made his way up the ladder to the hatch, throwing it open and climbing out. The overgrown grass caught as his feet as he walked through the barren town, making his way to where his periscope had seen what couldn't be and yet.

It was.

He was standing in the playground among the rusted old equipment, a sky-blue patch that was stark against the faded paint and the dry, yellow grass. Hopping from merry-go-round to monkey bars to the teeter-totters in the world's most dilapidated version of the ground is lava. 

Robbie stood and watched him silently until he finally turned and their eyes met.

"Robbie," Sportacus said. The word carried on the windless air and silent town. He flipped lightly to the ground, trotting over to where Robbie stood. Had he always been so short, Robbie wondered distantly. In his memory Sportacus seemed much taller, seemed larger than life. 

"I wondered if you were still here," Sportacus said. His smile was warm. He looked exactly the same, a mirror image of Robbie's memories. Robbie was well aware that he did not, gray feathered in the hair at his temples, lines at the corners of his eyes. 

"I am. Why are you here?" Robbie crossed his arms over his chest.

Sportacus shrugged. He shifted backwards into an easy handstand then back to his feet. "Nostalgia, maybe? I did live here for almost five years."

"Yes, then you left and things were finally quiet again." 

"They were quiet before that," Sportacus said softly. "When the children started to move away, that's when it was time for me to go. I stayed for the very last one."

"You did," Robbie agreed. 

"Does anyone else still live here?" Sportacus sounded mildly curious. He looked out at the town and the few houses that still stood, the overgrown playground and streets that were full of litter and rubble. 

"No. Luckily, everything I need can be ordered and sent in these days." Lazytown was nothing anymore but empty houses. Ghosts and shadows. It was easy to be lazy in a town of only one. 

Sportacus nodded slowly and there was sadness in his eyes. He tipped his head at Robbie, "You're not going to invite me home? A visit for old time's sake?"

"If you must."

The walk back to Robbie's bunker was short, Sportacus at his heels in the world's smallest parade. The remains of the billboard were still littered around the hatch, tattered ribbons of paper hanging in the windless air and the skeletal remains of the metal framework.

Sportacus followed him down, his booted feet silent on the ladder rungs. He stood at the base of the ladder, looking around, while Robbie made his way to his chair. 

His disguise tubes were still there, empty but unbroken, the glass filmed with fingerprints and dust. There was a scattering of equipment about, tools and bolts, the occasional shroud of a drop cloth over an unfinished project.

On the edge of the tiny counter that doubled as Robbie's kitchen, there was a small bowl of apples. Sportacus picked one up, hefting it in his hand curiously. "I thought maybe these were wax."

"No, they're real enough."

He nodded and carefully set it back into the bowl. They gleamed blood-red in the overhead lights and perhaps Robbie would eat one of them, hold the tart-sweet flesh of it on his tongue and let the taste of it seep through him, bask in past memories of apples. Or perhaps in a week they'd be wrinkled bags of rotting fruit, he couldn't say. 

"Robbie," Sportacus said, finally, walking over to where Robbie was sitting in his chair. He crouched down by the arm, bracing himself with one hand on the matted orange fur. "You don't need to stay here."

Robbie scoffed aloud, wordlessly, but he didn't move when Sportacus rocked up on his heels and kissed him. Soft lips pressed firmly to his and Robbie exhaled through his nose sharply. 

Once, years ago, they'd done this, and Robbie had kissed that mouth, soft and wet and wonderful. Once, they'd almost been…something…Robbie didn't know the word for what they'd been, the almost, the maybe, but they'd had this much, had a kiss between them.

Robbie drew away first, looked down into eyes that were as blue as the sky he hadn't seen in days. He gently pushed Sportacus back enough so that he could stand and Sportacus did, too, shorter than Robbie remembered except in the way it counted.

"Come on," Robbie said. He took Sportacus's hand and led him back to a door in the corner. He hadn't been in the bedroom in some time and the sheets were faintly musty, dust rising when he pushed Sportacus down on them. 

Sportacus didn't seem to mind. He spread his legs easily, let Robbie slide between them and his mouth was hot, his hands strong and knowing. He let Robbie strip off his shirt and ran his own hands over his bare chest, pinching his own nipples until they were peaked and hard, begging for a tongue against them and Robbie obliged. 

"Clothes," Sportacus gasped, his skin was goosebump prickled in the cool air and he tugged at Robbie's clothes, yanking at his shirt and pants. Until they were both naked and Robbie hadn't seen Sportacus bare in the years before but he was as gorgeous as the fantasies he'd never admitted to having. 

Strong and sleek, the body of a gymnast, and Robbie couldn't help but touch his bare arms, cup the ball of his bicep in his palm, stroked his way down his chest, the flatness of his belly and lower, thumbs rubbing up the hard length of his cock, lingering as Sportacus arched up and moaned. 

Gorgeous, and Robbie must've said it aloud because Sportacus opened his eyes, blue eclipsed in the black of his pupils. He drew his legs up, spreading them wide in obscene invitation and Robbie didn't have the will to resist. Lubricant he had, from the occasional lonely night when he'd indulged, and he slicked his fingers, swallowing hard when Sportacus shifted and braced a foot against Robbie's shoulder.

He folded when Robbie leaned in, gloriously flexible, and took a single finger with closed eyes and a sharp inhale. Two fingers had him rocking up against Robbie's hand and whining. Robbie worked in a third, relishing the stretch around his fingers and the sounds Sportacus made, urgent and low. He let them slip free, wiping his hand on the sheets and pushed Sportacus's legs even further back, felt the muscles strain beneath his hands.

Robbie didn't have any condoms and Sportacus didn't protest when he slid into him bare, eyes closing at the slick, tight heat around him, at the unbearable intimacy of it. He gave Sportacus a moment to adjust, waited for the skittering hitch in his breathing to steady, and then pulled back. Pushed back in with a long, languid thrust, finding a lazy rhythm that ignored any pleading. 

Slow and steady, thrusting into that lovely tight heat and Sportacus was anything but quiet, a steady stream of gasps and words strangling out of him, crying out for more, for harder, and words that Robbie didn't understand, guttural and low. Robbie kept to the same, slow pace, listened to the slap of skin against skin, pressed a kiss to the inside of Sportacus's knee where it rested over his shoulder and tasted sweat and salt. 

Despite his efforts, it was too quick, everything swirling in too fast, and Robbie slit open his eyes enough to see Sportacus stroking himself, a frantic contrast to Robbie's ease. Watched as Sportacus covered his mouth with his free hand, smothering back cries as he came, spilling in wet streaks over his belly and hand. 

Robbie didn't stop, kept moving inside him, as steady as a metronome, until Sportacus let out a low sob, trembling with aftershocks and surely painfully sensitive. Only then did Robbie shove in hard, fucked in hard, driving in quick-quick perfect and he wanted to remember this forever, how tight Sportacus was, how gorgeous he looked sweaty and wrung out, his hair sweat-dark and his eyes clenched shut. 

It was less an orgasm and more an internal explosion and Robbie let out a groan through clenched teeth, pushed in hard one last time and held there as he came in a wet pulse inside Sportacus, in that perfect, tight heat.

Robbie collapsed, felt as much as heard Sportacus grunt at the sudden weight but he didn't protest, only rested a hand on the nape of Robbie's neck, his thumb stroking the too-long hair falling across it. 

He hadn’t changed at all. 

"Why are you here?" Robbie asked again, sometime later. Sportacus was curled up against him sleepily and Robbie let his fingers trail down the soft skin of his back, traced the bumps of his spine. "Did your little crystal beep for me? Ask you to come save me?"

"No," Sportacus nuzzled at Robbie's collarbone. "I can only help people who want to be helped."

Robbie said nothing.

"Come with me," Sportacus didn't ask, there was no question in the words. "You don't need to stay here, Robbie."

"I can't," Robbie didn't even pause to think. "Not yet."

Sportacus only nodded. "I'll come back next month, then."

"Will you?" Robbie asked idly, ignoring the catch in his voice.

"I promise."

And he did. Came back again next month, and the next, and every time they lay in bed together, sweat cooling on their skin, he asked Robbie to come with him. Accepting his no, waiting for yes.

-finis-


End file.
